50 Dances
by Sianatra
Summary: 50 parings, 50 dances, 50 drabbles inspired by lyrics. It might just be magic.
1. DracoAstoria: our sweet space

**a/n.** I've been getting a lot of requests lately to start a series of drabbles, and so finally, I've decided to do it. Let's hear a big whoop and holler for me, hm? Well, anyhow, I'll try to write a new one every day. Tell me what you think, okay?(:

**1. DracoAstoria  
><strong>our. sweet. space 

_and just where you are  
><em>_might be the right place  
><em>_might be that sweet space  
><em>_but you don't know_

_-_[_I Buried a Bone, _Blind Pilot]

* * *

><p>And with her in his arms, it just felt so <em>right<em>.

So maybe she wasn't a _Pansy_, with the smirk and the dark eyes, but she had curves in all the perfect places, and that smile (so _bright_) was better than a smirk could ever be.

And he was thinking maybe he could get used to this, used to the way she was looking at him, because really, he was Draco Malfoy, and no one had ever looked at him like that before, not with _sincerity_ or eyes that innocent.

So as the moon climbed higher into the sky and everyone else left the party, they stood together in that sweet space, inseparable, her arms around his neck and his hands on her waist, dancing to a song that only they could hear, an echoing melody that moved their feet in sync to the rhythms of the stars.

They got their first taste of perfection that night.

They've been craving more ever since.

* * *

><p><strong>an. **So... want to tell me how you like it? Reviews always make my day;)

xoxo,  
>-Sianatra<p> 


	2. HarryHermione: half of my heart for you

**a/n. **Here's another one, dears(:

**2. HarryHermione  
><strong>half. of. my. heart. is. for. you.

_oh, half of my heart's got a grip on the situation  
><em>_half of my heart takes time  
><em>_half of my heart's got a right mind to tell you  
><em>_that I can't keep loving you (can't keep loving you)  
><em>_oh, with half of my heart_

-[_Half of My Heart_, John Mayer]

* * *

><p>"I can't do this anymore," she whispers helplessly, throwing another piece of scribbled-over paper onto an already overflowing heap. Gone are the eyes with the flashes of intuition, and now she's just a <em>mess<em> of quavering fingers and an overworked mind, pretty_smart_ girl gone to waste.

But she's still on top of her game, understand?

She's not going to let Ron get her down, oh no, not him and his too-perfect-to-be-true girlfriend, because what are they _really_?

It's just a mistake, she tries to tell herself, just a mash-up of reality, and that he'd never fall in love with such a ditz (but such a _beautiful_ one at that) and that even all of the lipstick and mascara in the world wouldn't be able to draw him into her web of seduction.

But even _she_ knows that's a lie.

Her shoulders are shaking before she even realizes she's crying.

And then _he's_ there, his hands on hers, and even though he's not Ron, it's okay, and she's letting herself be pulled out of her chair, letting herself be led to the middle of the deserted common room, letting him dance with her and twirl her around in circles.

A slight giggle escapes through her sobs.

(Because even though it doesn't fix everything, it helps.)

* * *

><p><strong>an.** I love you. Mucho. Review please(:

xoxo,  
>-Sianatra<p> 


	3. LunaLuna: songs of beautiful dancers

**3. LunaLuna**

they. sing. songs. of. beautiful. dancers

_you're a beauty, but you're lonely  
><em>_why you dancing by yourself?_

-[Dancing By Yourself, _Honor_ Society]

* * *

><p>She's twirling by herself in the middle of the floor because no one's asked her if she wanted to dance.<p>

She puts on a fake smile, whirls around, puts her hands up in the air, but Luna, _odd_weird_quiet_ little Luna, she's not enjoying this at all, not a _bit_.

And today she's a mass of billowing yellow, but she doesn't feel yellow right now, she feels dejected, _trampled on_ even, because she's at a _wedding _for goodness sakes and aren't weddings supposed to be kind of magical?

She dances, and when people look on, she paints that smile over her face/forces those sparkles into her eyes/pushes an inch of merriment into her step, but when they looking away, the smile drops. Because maybe, just maybe, there's _resentment_ festering in her heart today.

Maybe (maybe for just a _day_) she doesn't want to be known as the girl who believes in Nargles and Crumple-Horned Snorkaks, who wears radishes on her ears and who sees things others can't.

Maybe she just once to be loved for once.

* * *

><p><strong>an. **Reviews, as you know, are always greatly appreciated(:

xoxo,  
>-Sianatra<p> 


	4. NevilleHannah: who thought she was plain

**4. NevilleHannah  
><strong>who. thought. she. was. plain

_i am just a plain girl  
><em>_always unprotected  
><em>_you break me in easy  
><em>_you break me into two_

-[Broken Bottles, Sarah Aument]

* * *

><p>She's never expected much, because she's one of those <em>plain<em> girls, you know, the kind that never does anything to her hair in the morning and always eats the same thing for breakfast (toast and jam, _thank you very much_). She is an ordinary student with an ordinary feel to her, and if she happens to walk down a dark corridor, there certainly won't be a catcall or a second glance; there will be absolutely no response, a polite nod at best. But this lack of attention doesn't seem to upset her. She isn't one to bother with such things.

And she isn't one to _sneak_, either, yet here she is in 7th year, sitting in the Herbology greenhouse with a _boy_ of all things, giggling and sharing secrets amidst the chaos surrounding their lives, the war raging just a gated world away.

When he pulls her to her feet, she doesn't even mind, and when they start to dance, a slow kind of waltz in the middle of the room, it feels so perfect, so right, so _normal_.

But Hannah (not so _plain_ anymore, is she?) feels as if she has never done anything as electrifying and completely _un-_normal in her life.

* * *

><p><strong>an.** I love this one. What do you think?

xoxo,  
>-Sianatra<p> 


	5. VoldemortBellatrix:madness suits us well

**5. VoldemortBellatrix  
><strong>madness. suits. us. well.

_and all at once i feel this, oh how it clings to me  
><em>_it reels and calls me towards it, confounding destiny  
><em>_and i can feel the madness inch by inch  
><em>_the more i run the more i am convinced_

-[_The Reeling_, Passion Pit]

* * *

><p>The sky trembles as they run by.<p>

Tonight there are two, only two, but they as so powerful, so strong, so _better_ than all the others, that it doesn't really make a difference. They are together in this, this sinful nightly deed, and when he casts a spell, she is always a step behind, conjuring up magic almost as potent as his own, raining down sparks on the screaming town.

Her chest is heaving and the gleam of wickedness in her eyes is shining (not for the first time, most certainly not). She dances as she runs, her feet pattering across the ground, mad shrieks escaping her mouth every now and then. She is like fire, untamable and reckless, beautiful and passionate.

And all of a sudden – but no, _no_, he's not thinking about her that way (is he?) because he is _Voldemort_, the most powerful being on Earth, destined to rise a thousand storms and sink a thousand ships; he isn't one for a thing as trivial as _that_, he can't let himself be burdened by it.

But as they continue wreaking havoc on the night, but he can't stop thinking, can't stop staring at the way her body looks in the moonlight.

Somehow, he knows that if he could love, he would love her.

It's not even a question, not really.

More like an answer.

* * *

><p><strong>an. **I need help deciding. What pair should I write next?


	6. LilySeverus: somewhere with the flowers

**6. LilySeverus**

somewhere. with. the. flowers. she. lies

_you'll be free, child, once you have died  
><em>_from the shackles of language and measurable time  
><em>_and then we can trade places, play musical graves  
><em>_until then walk away, walk away, walk away_

-[_Landlocked Blues_, Bright Eyes]

* * *

><p>Lily Evans is a <em>pretty<em> girl, fresh-faced and happy and ready to take on the world if she pushes her 10 year-old self to the limit. She likes unicorns and rainbows and would love to fly if she could.

Severus is a _weird _boy, a kid who likes shadows and, who some rumor, magic. He is a child growing up in a broken home and has never felt love, so it must be only _natural_ he is falling for the girl with the fire in her hair, only _natural_ that he feels something stir in the pit of his heart when he sees her luminous green eyes.

Yeah right.

(Poor broken boy's just a mess).

And of course, she's so innocent, she never gives their relationship a second thought, never thinks twice because she knows _they're just friends_. That's what he tells her every time she asks, because really, he's too much of a coward to say anything else.

So when she finds herself in the meadow behind her house, dancing on the blades of grass with a boy in black, she starts smiling.

"Sev?"

"Yeah, Lils?"

"This is nice."

And as he's spinning around in circles with her, he fully agrees that he's never felt anything as nice in his life.

* * *

><p><strong>an: **Hello, dear reader. Care to leave a review for this old author? It would be much appreciated(:

Kisses,  
>Sianatra;)<p> 


	7. PercyAudrey: red in a sea of black

**7. PercyAubrey  
><strong>red. girl. in. a. sea. of. black

_i was spinning free, whoa,  
><em>_with a little sweet and simple numbing me._

-[_Sweetness, _Jimmy Eat World]

* * *

><p>He is standing in the corner at a Ministry Party (when will these things ever stop?) clutching a flute of wine and looking supremely bored. He has spent the last hour in conversation with Augustus Garnett, a newbie in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement who has a penchant for rambling enthusiastically. The first five minutes of talking to him were pleasant, the next five tedious, the fifty after that absolutely dull, but now Percy is finally free of him (Garnett has gone off to pester the Minister, bless his soul) and can do as he wishes.<p>

Everyone is circulating freely, and more and more guests come in through the doors each minute, bubbling over with laughter and chat, but Percy is content to stand back and watch. He never has been one for social gatherings, and today is certainly not going to change that.

He wants to dance, actually, (maybe just a _little_), but he decides against it. There is far too much at risk. High-ranking officials are here tonight, and being Percy Weasley, a boy desperate to please, he pushes the thought to the back of his mind.

Until she comes in.

She is red in a sea of black, clothed in a small scarlet dress that contrasts beautifully against her pale skin. Her hair is crimson, shining in the florescent light and not quite unlike his own, but it is her eyes that get to him, that strike him to the very core. There are stories there, hidden behind the pupils, there is knowledge there, the information of a thousand books, but there is also life, and a liveliness he has never seen in anyone else before.

Like lasers, tiny, shooting beams of light, their eyes are drawn to each other from across the room. It is her who reaches him first, it is her who reaches out to take his hand.

The question that bubbles forth from her lips is the one thing he's wanted to hear all night.

"Dance?"

And so on the arm of a strange but beautiful girl, Percy Weasley drops his hesitation and _lives._

* * *

><p><strong>an:** Suggestions for the next pairing? Let me know;)

xoxo,  
>-Sianatra<p> 


	8. RonHermione: she completes me

**8. RonHermione  
><strong>she. completes. me

_we are still dreamers in our dead sleep  
><em>_naked and tangled  
><em>_twisted in love  
><em>_and tonight we are the only ones who feel it_

-[_Heaven Here_, Dashboard Confessional]

* * *

><p>It is late at night. Rose and Hugo are sleeping (<em>finally<em>) and the two exhausted parents are lying side by side on the couch, fingers entwined, fighting off sleep.

"Have you ever felt this tired before?" Hermione mutters softly. "It feels like my eyelids are permanently attached to one another."

"Me too," Ron sighs, kissing her cheek with utmost slowness.

A yawn breaks out over Hermione's face. "Let's just sleep here," she murmurs after a pause. "No use… no use going to our bedroom now."

Ron nods in sleepy agreement, a yawn breaking over his face. "Mmhm."

And so cuddled against each other, the two quickly fall into the clutches of sleep, where they dance with each other in their dreams and find the energy they need to make it through another day.

Because there always is another dance, another day.

As long as they have each other.

* * *

><p><strong>an.** Awwwh. I love Ron and Hermione. =]


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